


What the Morning Brings

by heeroluva



Category: Naruto
Genre: First Time, Healing Sex, M/M, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, ToT: Chocolate Box
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 00:15:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8423278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/pseuds/heeroluva
Summary: After a mission goes wrong, Orochimaru seeks out an unlikely source to fill a hole in his education.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mornelithe_falconsbane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mornelithe_falconsbane/gifts).



Orochimaru ignored Sora’s, one of Sakumo’s summons, growls and bared fangs as he tore through the wards and traps barring him from Sakumo’s property. He ignored her as he crossed the grounds to the main building, slipping inside and stepping out of his shoes before sinking down and kneeling, waiting. He ignored her as she sniffed at him then hesitantly pressed herself against his shivering side, ignored her as she popped out of existence, no doubt telling her master about his presence.

Unlike so many, Sakumo had never looked upon Orochimaru with disgust, never publicly shunned him or called him a monster. Even when they first met when Orochimaru had been barely seventeen, trapt in a genjutsu cast by a traitor Konoha shinobi who had made it just perfect enough to seem real, Sakumo had pulled him out of it, taught him how to avoid the same mistake again, had treated him as an equal. It was something that Orochimaru had never forgotten. Orochimaru needed that again now.

While they had talked on occasion the following year since, they were neither friends nor comrades in arms. Orochimaru was a front line fighter, while Sakumo was often sent on covert missions, so their paths rarely crossed.

Orochimaru knew he shouldn’t have come here, that this was a weakness that he couldn’t afford, but there was no other he could seek out. Sarutobi, Tsunade, Jiraiya, they would all look upon him with pity, treat him as fragile and breakable. Orochimaru would not have it. This was a risk, a stupid one. It would be safer to go to ground, lick his wounds alone without anyone ever knowing.

But as the door suddenly slid open before him, Orochimaru knew it was far too late for that.

“Orochimaru,” Sakumo greeted, as though stepping into his house to find an intruder was the most normal thing.

Orochimaru remained silent, watching the way Sakumo’s nose twitched, watching the way his eyes darkened and his mouth curled into a frown.

“You should be at the hospital.”

“No, I do not need this information in my medical file to be mocked. I seek a teacher, someone who will fill the hole in my education in an area that I neglected in my ignorance, thinking myself set apart from, above such things.”

Orochimaru could see the protest forming on Sakumo’s tongue and forged on, saying far too much. “I am not weak or broken or shattered. I am not defiled or tainted or dirtied. I am not lesser for having some enemy shinobi’s cock up my ass. But I am shaken, in need of guidance.” Do not make me beg, he did not say.

Sakumo's gaze was a heavy weight, and finally he spoke. “What I teach you, you will not use as a weapon. Promise me that, Orochimaru,” Sakumo demanded.

It was on the tip of Orochimaru’s tongue to deny it, because why would he not use all the resources at his disposal if it came down to it, but he could see the steel in Sakumo’s eyes and instead, nodded his agreement. “I will not use anything you teach me as a weapon.”

Sakumo’s eyes narrowed seeing the loophole that Orochimaru had found but didn’t call him on it. “First we shall bathe. I’ve been training all day, and I stink.”

Sakumo offered his hand, and Orochimaru took it, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. Orochimaru followed Sakumo deeper into the house until they reached the bathing room. Sakumo offered Orochimaru a towel and washcloth before quickly stripping. Orochimaru followed suit at a slower pace, carefully folding his clothes before setting them aside.

Under the hot spray of water, Orochimaru scrubbed himself clean. A touch on his shoulder had him tensing and looking over his shoulder at Sakumo.

Sakumo’s hand rose to Orochimaru’s hair. “May I?” he asked.

In any other situation, Orochimaru would have said no, hating it when people touched his hair. “Please do.”

Sakumo’s movements were quick and efficient, soaping the length of Orochimaru’s hair, until Sakumo began to massage Orochimaru’s scalp. “The scalp is highly sensitive and can be used to incite relaxation or even cause pleasure—” Sakumo paused, jerked harshly at Orochimaru’s hair. “—or pain.”

Rinsing the soap from Orochimaru’s hair, Sakumo pulled Orochimaru back against his chest. His hands started at Orochimaru’s shoulder’s, tracing lightly across his collarbones, drawing a shiver from him. “Depending on how you touch, any place on the body can be an erogenous zone.” Hands drifting lower, Sakumo lightly plucked at Orochimaru’s peaked nipples. “It can vary from person to person. Some people like a soft touch here—” Sakumo’s fingers tightened and twisted at the sensitive flesh, causing Orochimaru to cry out and arch against him, unsure of the sensation. “—while some people prefer a harsher touch.”

Orochimaru’s whole body prickled with sensations, his cock beginning to fill with blood between his thighs, and he almost protested when Sakumo stepped back.

“Finish cleaning, and we’ll take this someplace more comfortable.”

Not needing to be told twice, Orochimaru made quick work of the rest of his body, Sakumo doing the same.

Sakumo didn’t bother with a robe, and Orochimaru couldn’t help but appreciate his fine physique while wondering what stories the scars that he wore told as he followed him down the hall.

Last night’s futon was still in place, the covers a jumble. Orochimaru didn’t let himself hesitate as he made himself comfortable on it, breathing in Sakumo’s scent.

Sakumo stood watching him for long minutes, and Orochimaru watched back, wondering what he was waiting for, if he thought Orochimaru would run scared.

Finally Sakumo sank to his knees at the foot of the bed and pulled Orochimaru’s foot to rest on his knee. Sakumo’s hands ran from Orochimaru’s knee to his ankle, following the curve of his calf, again and again until Orochimaru’s skin tingled. Then strong fingers drifted to his foot, thumbs digging into the arch as Sakumo massaged his foot. Deeming that leg done, he switched to the other, giving it a similar treatment.

“Massage is used both as a way to relax your partner and to heighten their awareness of you as well as increase desire. Do not be afraid to experiment, to find what both you and your partner likes.” Sakumo’s head dropped as he pulled Orochimaru’s foot up, taking a toe into his mouth, his tongue running along the digit.

Orochimaru’s face twisted both at the sight and the strangeness of the sensation. Surely, Sakumo couldn’t find enjoyment in that. Surely, _he_ couldn’t find enjoyment in that. But his body proved him wrong because it was as though his toe was connected to his cock. “That’s disgusting.”

Pulling back, Sakumo asked, “Is it really? Or is it that you expect it to be disgusting? Do not limit yourself based on preconceived notions of what you should and shouldn’t like.” Laying back, Sakumo pulled Orochimaru on top of him, their cocks pressing together, causing them both to gasp. “Kiss me,” Sakumo challenged.

Orochimaru took it, pressing his closed mouth against Sakumo’s. He knew that there was more to kissing, had seen Jiraiya kissing others far too many times, but the thought of someone’s tongue in his mouth made his nose curl in distaste.

When it became clear that Orochimaru wasn’t going to do anything more, Sakumo pressed for more, tugging on Orochimaru’s lips with his teeth, nipping at them, and soothing the pain with his tongue, until finally, hesitantly, Orochimaru opened to him.

It was as though a dam was opened, and Orochimaru couldn’t get enough of the taste of Sakumo. Orochimaru fisted one hand in the spikes of Sakumo’s silver hair, the other curled desperately around his arm, hard enough that Orochimaru was sure Sakumo would have bruised, but he didn’t care.

Orochimaru couldn’t help the way his hips rocked, the way his cock leaked and slid wetly against Sakumo’s own.

Sakumo’s hands ran the length of Orochimaru’s back, up and down, up and up, up and down again before they finally they slid lower and cupped the globes of his ass.

Orochimaru’s orgasm hit him unexpectedly, too far gone to register the touch as any kind of threat, and panting his head dropped to Sakumo’s neck, mouthing at the tendon there as he shuddered through it, the orgasms that he’d occasionally coached from his body paling in compassion.

When finally Orochimaru relaxed, he could feel Sakumo’s cock, still hard against his stomach. Sitting up, he wrapped his fingers against the length, noting the differences between his own and the one in his hand.

“Please,” Sakumo said softly.

Deeming them not so different, Orochimaru tightened his fingers and began to move his fist over Sakumo’s length as he watched his face, watched the way his eyes fell close, the way his cheeks flushed darker, the way his nostrils flared as he took in the scent of them together. Free hand rising, Orochimaru experimentally raked his thumbnail over Sakumo’s pebbled nipple.

Orochimaru didn’t expect the way that Sakumo would buck beneath him, the groan that it would pull from his chest, the way his cock would spurt wetly over Orochimaru’s fingers, adding more to the mess on Sakumo’s stomach. Milking Sakumo until he went soft, he pulled his cum covered hand to his face, examining it, smelling it (not so different than his own), tasting it (bitter) and causing his nose to curl in distaste.

Sakumo laughed at Orochimaru’s expression and sat up, pulling Orochimaru to sit fully on his lap.

“You didn’t fuck me,” Orochimaru said crudely.

“No,” Sakumo agreed. “Nor will I tonight.”

“You said you would teach me.”

“Have I not taught you?” Sakumo asked, fingers rising to scratch lightly at Orochimaru’s scalp, dragging a shudder from him.

Orochimaru scowled, realizing he’d been caught in a trap.

“Now none of that, lovely. As with most things, this is not a lesson that can be learned in one night. For now, we will wash again. Then we will sleep. I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted. Then in the morning, well, we’ll see what the morning brings.”

Orochimaru wanted to protest, wanted the rest of the lesson now, but at the same time he understood, knew how to be patient. What _would_ the morning bring? Orochimaru wondered.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompts: rape recovery (especially with healing cock), Sakumo saves a seventeen-year-old Orochimaru, and Orochimaru never forgets


End file.
